


Government Hooker

by TheBeeThatHums



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Dominant Mycroft, Embarrassment, F/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mycroft's suit, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock is a Brat, Smut, Sorta song fic, Spanking, Stripping, Suggestive Themes, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeeThatHums/pseuds/TheBeeThatHums
Summary: You've been dating Mycroft for a while now and he has yet to make a move. A sudden outburst from you certainly goes a long way in moving things along... a very long way.





	1. Chapter 1

“Why do you even like this song, (F/n)?” John wondered walking into the kitchen to the sound of Lady GaGa's Government Hooker as you hummed along and mixed two tubes of chemical before handing them to Sherlock.

“No reason,” you hummed, holding out the vile. When it wasn’t taken from your hand, you looked up to find Sherlock scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes, “There’s always a reason.”

“It’s just a song, Sherlock,” you huffed, rolling your eyes, but he caught you chewing your lip and returned, “You’re biting your lip. You only do that when you don’t want me to know something. It’s obviously more than just a song.”

“Maybe it is,” you shrugged, knowing that being vague would drive him crazy.

“Tell me.”

“I’m not sure you want to know.”

“Of course I do. Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know.”

John watched you goad Sherlock a bit more until his face was red and then chuckled, “Just tell him, (F/n). It’s going to drive him up the wall.”

“It reminds me of Mycroft,” you dead-panned.

Both of them took a long moment to process that and then John burst out into laughter and Sherlock scrunched up his face in displeasure. You chuckled, “I told you didn’t want to know.”

“That’s disturbing,” he huffed, sticking out his tongue in disgust, and John laughed, “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”

“I know, right?” you grinned at him

“I don’t think my brother would be so pleased to know you associate him with that song.”

“That’s why he is never to know. Our relationship is not at a point where I can tease him just yet,” you warned before slipping from your chair, humming the melody while you thought about the other reason it reminded you of Mycroft- the not so innocent reason. Sherlock’s eyes grew wide as he noticed a pint tint come to your cheeks as your eyes glazed over, signifying you were lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about, (F/n)?” he demanded, hoping for once that he was wrong, and you startled, “W-What? Why do you care what I’m thinking?”

The growing blush on your cheeks was not helping your case and Sherlock coolly ordered, “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“That’s private, Sherlock. There’s a reason I don’t say it aloud.”

John tried to intervene, “Let her alone, Sherlock. We all like to keep our thoughts-“

“Shut it, John,” Sherlock snapped getting up to corner you against the sink as he demanded again, “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me or I’ll post that video on your computer to the net.”

You blanched, “What video?”

“You know very well what video.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Fine. Go ahead. I’m still not telling you.”

He called your bluff, taking a step towards the door, and you squealed, scrunching your eyes shut, “FINE! I was thinking about getting Mycroft out of that gorgeous suit of his and letting him shag me silly against the wall while I grabbed his arse. His absolutely perfect arse.”

Sherlock and John just stared at you, surprised by your sudden and loud outburst of a confession and you kept your eyes shut as you ran a hand down your face. It wasn’t your fault you were sexually frustrated! Six months you and Mycroft had been dating and he hadn’t so much as made a move beyond a kiss goodnight and occasionally letting you snuggle. He was driving you mental by just being his sexy self and denying you any sort of satisfaction. Was it so wrong to daydream about jumping his bones?

All three of you startled, when the sound of a throat being cleared echoed from the doorway, and your head snapped up to find a surprised looking Mycroft, a deep pink coloring his cheeks.

“While I’m flattered you think my rear perfect, (F/n), I would rather the whole block not be privy to that,” he managed after a moment and your face went so red it was a wonder you didn’t pass out from lack of blood to other more important areas. You opened your mouth to say something, anything really, and found that you had nothing, quickly shutting it again as you looked anywhere but him. He awkwardly cleared his throat again, “Might I have a word with you in private?”

You nodded, following him when he moved from the doorway out to the landing, and shut the door behind you for some privacy from your two nosey flatmates. As soon as the door shut, you were shoved up against it and your lips attacked in the most passionate kiss you’d ever received from Mycroft. You responded immediately returning the kiss with equal fire as one hand came up to cup his neck and pull him down to you. His tongue traced your lip and you quickly allowed it past, prodding it with your own as he tried to claim your mouth as his. You had to push him back when your lungs screamed for air but he didn’t go far, resting his forehead on yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips once more before pulling a little further away to offer you that arrogant Holmes smirk, “If that was what you wanted, you only need ask, darling.”

“I was waiting for you to make a move,” you pouted and he chuckled, “Consider it made then.”

He reconnected his lips with yours, the hands that had previously been on your shoulders sliding down to your waist to pull you to him, and you took that as an invitation, slipping your hands beneath his suit coat to pull his shirt from his trousers. It proved to be more difficult than you thought and he chuckled as his lips started to explore your jaw. In retaliation, your hands slid down and squeezed that marvelous butt. You let out a quiet satisfied moan as he stiffened with a startled grunt and then hummed, “I wasn’t kidding when I said your arse is perfect… or when I said I wanted you to shag me silly.”

“Noted,” he coughed embarrassedly, hesitating only slightly before lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist, but you caught his cheeks, placing a sweet kiss on his lips before quirking an eyebrow, “I think we might want to relocate unless we want to scar John and Sherlock and quite possibly give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack.”

You couldn’t help but grin as you watched him consider that, knowing that the prospect of scarring his little brother was tempting, but he ultimately let you down, “Agreed.”

With a quick smirk, he eagerly took your hand in his and led you down the stairs while you grinned happily, humming your new favorite song. Oh yeah, you were so getting some from your very own government hooker.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Once you and Mycroft were on the sidewalk, you stopped in your tracks and tugged at his arm, making him turn to look at you as you worried, “Myc, if you aren’t ready to do this I can wait.”

“You know I don’t like it when you lie to me, (F/n),” he responded in a stern tone but there was a teasing smirk on his lips, “Flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, advanced breathing- you’d have me right here in the street if you could.”

You literally shivered with desire as he rattled off his smug set of deductions, everything about him in this moment making you want him even more, and then shoved him roughly into the car, “Christ, Mycroft! Just get in the damn car before I rip your bloody clothes off.”

He chuckled, pulling you in after him to catch your lips in a kiss that erased any doubts at the back of your mind. You slid your hands up and used his tie to pull him to you as the car started moving, enjoying just kissing him for the time being. His teeth tugged at your lip before he returned to moving his lips against yours. He had really soft lips and you wondered if you he used chapstick… and then if he would let you borrow it.

Storing that thought away for later, you paused for air and let your eyes slide closed as he claimed your jaw and then your neck with feather light nips and kisses. You had a clear thought, an unfortunate thing, and shoved him away, turning to look out the window as you scooted away from him. Mycroft looked rather like a lost puppy and went to pull you back but you held up a hand to stop him, “As much as I hate to, we need to cool it or you won’t be able to leave the car when we arrive.”

He thought about it for a moment, looking down at the slight tenting in his trousers, and then opened his mouth to respond but again you held up your hand, scrunching your eyes closed, “Don’t speak. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think in my direction. I can’t handle it.”

Mycroft chuckled smugly, proud of the effect he had on you, and you shivered as the noise hit your ears, letting out a soft groan and muttering under your breath, “Damn you.”

The car stopped a short while later and you let out a relieved sigh before blinking in confusion, “Why are we at your office?”

“It was far closer than my house,” Mycroft hummed, slipping from the car to open the door for you. You hesitantly took the hand he offered as you looked warily up at the building, “Are you sure about this, Mycroft?”

“Of course.”

You followed him inside and into the elevator, clasping your hands in front of you as you absentmindedly hummed Government Hooker. He glanced over, “May I ask what led you to confess your sexual desires to my brother?”

You blanched and then went red, “I think it would be best you not know.”

“Oh really and why is that?” he wondered teasingly, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s more than a little embarrassing.”

“Does it have to do with that song you keep humming?”

You went even redder, if that was possible, and he reached over, using a fingertip to tilt your chin up towards him, “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, darling.”

You gazed into his eyes for a moment, examining them with all the intensity that he afforded yours, and noted the subtle grays and greens amongst the blues. His hand moved to cup your cheek and you leaned into it as his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. It took all your willpower not to press the emergency stop and jump him right then and there.

Thankfully the door pinged open a second later, saving you from having to explain your earlier outburst, and he took your hand and strode forward with an air of authority. Oh god was that beyond sexy. Anthea looked surprised to see him but she wasn’t around for long as he curtly ordered, “Clear my schedule for the day, Anthea, and then you are dismissed.”

She just nodded, already clicking away at her phone intently, and slipped into the still open elevator as Mycroft pulled you into his office and shut the door. He clicked it locked and you fidgeted both out of impatience and nervousness, “Won’t somebody hear?”

He turned and offered you a wicked smirk, “It’s soundproof. Never know who’s trying to listen in on state secrets.”

Before he could finish, you’d shoved him against the door and started pressing open mouth kisses to his neck, “God, that’s sexy.”

“That my office is soundproof?”

“Everything. That. The way you said it. That voice. That smirk. You”

Your fingers fumbled with his tie, trying to get it off of him, and failed, causing you to let out a frustrated growl, “I love your clothes, My, but right now I would like them a lot more if they were on the floor.”

You worked at the tie again, “If only it weren’t so fucking difficult.”

He gripped your waist and spun so you were against the door, “Such foul language from such gorgeous lips. Naughty girl.”

“Oh you have no idea,” you huffed suggestively as his lips fell to your neck to pick up where he’d left off in the car, mumbling into your skin, “Tell me.”

A smirk settled on your lips for a moment and you gave a soft moan as he nipped at your pulse before you breathed out, “The last time I was in this office I worked myself up so horridly with a fantasy that I had to spend an hour in a cold shower.”

His lips returned to yours for a moment, “And what fantasy was that, my dear?”

You tilted your head back as he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, biting down while he gently pulled at the pearl stud you were wearing, and you choked out, “You had your way with me on your desk in only your open fronted waistcoat and pocket watch until I screamed your name.”

“How about we make fantasy reality?”

He pulled back to offer you a small grin, taking your hands and backing up towards his desk. Being Mycroft, he paused to neatly move his papers out of the way, clearing off a large section of the even larger desk meticulously before lifting you on to it and pressing a heated kiss to your lips. Your fingers went to his hair, pulling it from its usual place, before one hand slid down to cup his cheek and the other his shoulder as you pulled away just enough to mumble, “There was more to that fantasy.”

“Oh?” he hummed into your lips and you grinned, “You stripped for me.”

He pulled away to look at you seriously, a hint of disbelief in his voice, “You want me to strip for you?”

You grasped the front of his suit, pulling him back to your lips as you admitted, “It may have been more of you staring at me while you took off your suit and folded it neatly.”

With a fleeting kiss, you added, “I think we’ve determined I can’t get the bloody thing off on my own anyway.”

“May I add to this fantasy?” Mycroft wondered, fingering the collar of your shirt as his eyes roamed down your body. He wasn’t about to admit it to you but he had a fantasy of his own about you on this desk that he called up when meetings proved to be particularly boring- it was part of why he brought you there. You ran your fingers through his hair pulling a soft groan from his lips as you responded, “Tell me what you’d like me to do, Mycroft.”

He leaned in to press a kiss to your neck and then his breath ghosted across your skin as he offered, “I will strip for you if…”

“If what?” you hummed, gazing into his eyes when he raised them to meet yours.

“If you let me undress you and give you a spanking first.”

You chuckled, softly tsking, “Someone’s been thinking naughty thoughts,” before pulling him to you in another kiss, “I like it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this is def NSFW. I haven't written a lot of smut and it has been a while since I did so please bear with me.

Nothing could beat the pleased smirk on Mycroft’s face when your approval hit his ears and his hand stroked up from your hip to cup your cheek as his lips meet yours in a surprisingly sweet kiss. The fingers of his other hand were already pulling at the buttons of your shirt to undo them and he left your lips to focus on the process, his intelligent eyes taking in every single minute detail of the moment. 

He undid every button carefully with the same meticulous process as he had with rearranging his desk, pausing only for brief brushes of his fingertips over the newly exposed skin. You shivered under his touch, each light brush sending a small shock straight to your core, but didn’t rush him. You would only delay what you wanted if you interrupted his process. His fingers reached the waistband of your trousers, tugging gently at your shirt to untuck it as his eyes raked hungrily over what he’d uncovered. 

“Sensible,” he hummed softly as he loosed your shirt and pushed it away from your shoulders, examining your nude colored bra, “If you don’t object to it, I’d like to add a few more… tantalizing pieces to your wardrobe.”

You slipped your arms from the shirt so it fell on the desk before reaching out to fiddle with his tie, breaths coming in soft huffs, “No objections at all… though, had I known you’d be seeing my underthings today, I would have put in a bit more effort.”

His hand settled on your hip as he moved in a bit closer, dipping to kiss you lightly with the softest of teasing yet scolding tones, “What have I told you about always being prepared?”

You let out a hum against his lips as you felt his hand snake around behind you and trail up your spine to the clasp of your bra, “Six months is a long time for a woman to wear pristine and very expensive underthings repeatedly.”

The clasp relented to his skilled fingers as he nodded slightly, “Noted. I intend to fully make it up to you.”

He gently tugged the scrutinized piece of fabric away from your chest and his hands immediately took its place over your soft breasts, caressing them with the same almost teasingly gentle touch he had used in unbuttoning your shirt. 

“I-I would say you are off to a running start,” you groaned softly, the warmth of his hands against your already sensitive skin making you shift impatiently forward to him. 

You could feel the smirk on his lips as they wandered along your jaw in light kisses, his thumbs dragging over the raised buds of your nipples in a way that pulled a gasp from your lips and sent a shock of pleasure through your body. Satisfied with what he’d discovered with just the slightest of touches, he slid his hands down to your hips again, stepping back slightly as they coaxed you to standing. 

You complied, biting back a soft whimper as the loss of contact and the cooler air hitting your now completely exposed breasts. It was all you could do to remind yourself that he always had a reason for doing things a certain way as his fingers returned to the band of your trousers and easily undid the clasp and zipper. He let them slide to the floor and stepped back to admire you, tongue ever so slightly licking his lips while he took in the beauty that stood before him. 

You were beginning to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze, something he immediately noticed. He closed the gap between you, his hand going to your cheek and his thumb softly tracing over your lips as he softly thrummed, “Stunning. Absolutely and unquestionably.”

You went pink at the praise and his other hand lightly traced at the curve of your hip, taking a moment to be sure you were reassured. You tiptoed and kissed him softly which he rightly took as an invitation to continue, deepening the kiss with a sudden passion as his hands gripped your behind to pull you flush against him. A groan escaped you and he seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, easily claiming dominance yet again as you were too in need to play coy. Your hands went to tug at his shirt again, desperate in your attempt to move him along to more, and he gently removed himself from you, stepping back with a soft tsk, “I am not finished yet, darling. Patience.”

You shivered visibly, thighs tensing to rub together a little as the combination of his endearing pet name and firm tone made you ache in the most deliciously frustrating way. It did not go unnoticed, Mycroft’s brow arching in amusement as he made note of the effects he was clearly having on you. Before you could get any further, his hand slipped up to cup your clothed folds, middle finger tracing along where they parted lightly. You let out a small squeak, cheeks flushed, as he stroked at your damp panties, pressing the wet fabric a bit more firmly into your aching cunt. His eyes had long since darkened with lust, pupils blown wide, and he let out a small groan, “Turn and bend over the desk. Now.”

You had already done it before he finished, back to him as you rested your elbows on his desk and almost pleading pushed your rear out to him. It took every ounce of self-control Mycroft had in him to not just free himself and take you then and there. He rested his hand on the small of your back, pushing your front half fully down on to the desk as he took a few deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, his suit trousers fully tented. 

You gasped at the forced shift, breasts suddenly pressed into the cold wood of his desk, and then wiggled slightly to adjust to it. Not one to lose control and his focus reaffirmed, his fingers slipped into the top edge of your panties and, in one swift move, tugged them down around your knees. You didn’t even have a moment to register it before his hands were stroking your soft exposed cheeks with a low groan, “It is truly you that has the perfect rear… near perfect.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him questioningly, “Near perfect?”

His eyes locked on yours as his lips twisted into a true Holmes smirk, “Perfection will be when it is hot, pink, and marked by my hand. Obviously.”

“Obviously…” you echoed with a gulp, eyes fluttering closed when his fingers dipped between your legs to stroke your dripping opening slowly, drawing a breathy moan from your lips, “Mycroft.”

“There will be time for familiarities later, darling. Until then, I expect you to address me as Sir,” He hummed, clearly pleased with how completely drenched you were for him, and then pulled his hand away to lick his fingers.

You let out a soft chuckle, lightly teasing, “My goodness…someone has been thinking very very naughty thoughts. I would never have guessed.”

His hands went to stroke your cheeks again, one on either side, and you could hear the smirk in his voice, “It is hardly my fault you are so terribly beautiful and diplomatic meetings are so horridly boring. I have a very active mind as I’m sure you know.”

You giggled lightly and he continued, “Now, should you wish me to stop you need only ask.”

“Say it,” he tsked again when you just nodded eagerly.

“Yes, Sir.”

He gulped thickly, relishing the sound of it for a moment, and then pulled his hand away from your skin. You tensed a little at the loss of contact, not sure what to expect. Before you could think too long, his hand came down firmly on your soft cheek and you cried out with a small jolt forward, startled. The sting of it sent waves of prickling sensation through you and before you could fully make sense of it his hand came down on you again with a loud crack. You yelped and then let out a groan, he had clearly done this before- the harsh connection of his hand to your skin perfectly walking the line between pain and pleasure. When he repeated the action a third time, you moaned lewdly and squeezed your thighs together, panting again, “Oh f-fu-More. Please, sir.” 

His hand skimmed over the reddening area lightly as he smirked at your response. Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly want you more, you went and responded to him in a way no woman before you ever had. His hand rained down both your cheeks in harsh measured smacks as you writhed against the desk, filling the room loud moans and sharp pleased cries. Each one shot a sharp pang of pleasure through you right to your very core and each time ‘Sir’ left your lips it just seemed to spur him further into his task, his hand coming down with a crack as if to punctuate it for you. 

Mycroft could not have been more pleased with how his day was shaping up- he’d only intended to ask you to an impromptu lunch and fate had kindly deposited you on his desk, naked and squirming with want. He marveled for a moment at how unpredictable the universe was at times, even for him, and while normally that made him uncomfortable, this time he relished in it. His hand stung lightly as he brought it down against your soft cheeks again, watching the movement it caused and the pink blossom of his mark across your skin. The sight alone was enough to make his bulge throb painfully and the noises you were making in response were certainly not helping.

Just as the pleasure reached a painfully frustrating point and you were about the beg for him to stop, his hand stroked over your sore rear slowly, admiring his handiwork. You took the moment to catch your breath in gasped pants only to have it stolen from you when his fingers slipped down along your opening again. 

“Now that is perfection, darling, and it seems you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he hummed, eyes taking in how completely and utterly worked up he’d gotten you, your thighs glistening with the wetness of your arousal and your folds plump with a need for satisfaction. 

“Obviously!” you whined and pressed yourself back against his fingers eagerly, shivering as the sensitive skin of your cheeks brushed against the soft fabric of his trousers, “I need you, Mycroft.”

His fingers left you immediately and you tensed, wondering if you’d misjudged the moment and the use of his name. Again, he was quick to reassure you, hand catching your arm to pull you up from the desk and then swiftly push you into his desk chair. He dipped down to give you light kisses with a low hum, “And you shall have me… after I’ve fulfilled your request.”


End file.
